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assim perdido
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
eu estou morrendo
burly, humble-abelha aplanar
prazeres mid e palácios embora nós podemos vaguear
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
não se aflija que sobre
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade
sobre os rooftops compita as sombras das nuvens
eu sou o vento que wavers
o alvorecer era verde maçã
quem é o corredor nos céus

 



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